


APOKALYPSIS

by XFPenpal



Category: The X files
Genre: Alien Abduction, Alternate Universe - Horror, F/M, Fox Mulder Angst, Parallel Universes, Pregnant Dana Scully, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XFPenpal/pseuds/XFPenpal
Summary: Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. ESCAPE FROM REALITY?

**Author's Note:**

> Apokalypsis is the Greek word for Revelation.  
> Apokalypsis (ἀποκάλυψις), an "uncovering."
> 
> RATING: M: Violent imagery, strong language and sexual themes.  
> CATEGORY: MT, Angst, MSR, Scully comfort,  
> SPOILERS: Three Words, Biogenesis, War of The Coprophages, Requiem, This Is Not Happening/Deadalive, Within/Without, Sixth Extinction – Amor Fati, The Truth, Fight The Future/IWTB, My Struggle 1 – 4, Plus One, The Erlenmeyer Flask, Herrenvolk, The Red And The Black, Piper Maru  
> DISCLAIMER: All X File characters belong to CC, 1013 and FOX/Disney. No profit was made and no copyright infringement intended.  
>   
> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

He took several irregular deep breaths, as he tried to process his situation. A hospital room. He was sat in a chair, in a bright, spotlessly clean white... In a flash his mind was transported back to a similar place. Another room, almost the same size and shape, only the light had been so intense it had hurt his eyes! Then, he'd disappeared into this illumination, a vortex of translucent energy. No wait! Go back to the white room. Yes, that had been on a psychiatric ward where he'd been aimlessly walking around it, screaming like a lunatic. Voices had permeated his thoughts, a cacophony of noise that was so deafening he had felt his head was going to explode. Scanners. Wasn't that a movie, where the characters could make this happen through telepathy? Okay, his mind was taking a detour into the realm of science fiction...or was it? That other light, the one that seemed to have swallowed him whole? That had really happened, in those woods after he'd witnessed other's standing in a glowing circular sphere – a tractor beam?  
  
Fox Mulder felt a dark foreboding presence. Gazing up into the sky, he noticed a spacecraft hovering above the little group, that was emitting this shaft of light. There was a sense of amazement, quickly followed by realisation, and then fear, as a familiar figure from his nightmares approached him. So, there had been a price on his head after all, and now the bounty hunter had been given the go-ahead to collect his prize? He recognised those eyes, now piercing into the very depths of his soul. Then, everything around him faded, as he was engulfed by an intense luminescence.  
  
"Doctor Pearson, please report to the emergency room. Doctor Pearson, to the emergency room." A shrill female voice over a tannoy system snapped him back to the hospital room.  
  
"What the fuck?" Mulder muttered under his breath, trying to fully process what was happening. Then, he realised he was dressed in one of those flimsy cotton gowns, that never left much to the imagination! How he hated those garments! I mean he might as well be naked, all the good they did with concealing ones body. Least the room was being kept at a regular temperature, so he wasn't freezing to death. But there had been a time when he had found himself in those circumstances hadn't there? The memories returned, invading his consciousness with such a jarring force, he no longer knew what was tangible any more.  
  
Discovering he was submerged in some sort of liquid, he automatically tried to fight his way out, but realised he couldn't actually move a muscle. Just where the hell was he? Was it possible to regress back to being inside your mother's womb? Or was he in a float tank undergoing some sort of sensory deprivation therapy? If that was the case, then it certainly wasn't reducing any stress related anxiety issues he might be having right now. Even though he wasn't able see or hear anything, another of his five senses was actually working on overtime. He became aware he was completely naked and his skin was in fact encased in a viscous substance, which was more like a kind of gelatin. He could feel it's icy coldness creeping into every pore in his body. Starting to feel like one of those fossilised insects trapped in amber, he thought he was going to have a full-blown panic attack. He wanted to scream in the hope that someone, anyone, would hear his frightened pleas. Then quickly became aware that was another impossible move on his part, as he couldn't even open his mouth. He couldn't even fucking breathe! What in God's name was happening to him?  
  
A sudden tug, and an organic breathing tube was yanked from his throat. Mulder's eyes flew open, and he proceeded to choke then vomit up a greenish-yellow fluid, that same sticky substance he had found himself surrounded in. As he took deep heaving breaths, aware now he was free of the stuff, he heard someone speak. The deep resounding voice sounded full of complete satisfaction.  
  
'Decontamination was a success. He's ready!'


	2. A TURN OF EVENTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

Mulder began coughing in earnest, before his mind re-established just where he was. "Hospital?" he said, perplexed. But he'd just been on that alien ship hadn't he? Tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes, and he sniffed before letting out a shuddering breath. Holly hell! Surely that was no memory he'd just experienced? It was almost like he'd been returned to that moment in time, through no choice of his own.  
  
"D-don't", he stammered. "Don't take me back there."  
  
As he spoke the words, his hand automatically opened his gown and began to trace trembling fingers down his chest. He felt the scarred tissue forming one long line down his torso and froze!  
  
"Oh god!"  
  
The blackness enveloped him, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it from happening. It was like they wanted him to relive this 'close encounter', in his head. But these goddamn alien beings had been far from gentle and sweet like Spielberg's movie! No, it was more like a sick and twisted Stephen King novel, or maybe Clive Barker? Yes, Hellraiser would be much more accurate to describe what he went through. What he was going through?  
  
Mulder felt the cold on his back and opening his eyes, realised he was lying down in some sort of metallic contraption, slightly tilting on its frame. Like a chair, only this was no comfy sofa he was strapped to. There was also a sharp throbbing ache in his limbs. Becoming aware that both his wrists and ankles were bolted to the object, piercing through flesh and bone, his breathing quickened and his chest heaved as he tried to make sense of what was happening to him. Christ! Then, he felt a tugging pain in his cheeks, and understood his face was on the verge of being ripped apart with metal hooks. What was that about Hellraiser? Was fucking Pinhead and his minions going to sentence him to an eternal damnation in the netherworld? No, he could say with complete and utter conviction that he was definitely already there!  
  
A screeching, tearing sound almost burst his ear drums. Then, he noticed two metal prongs moving towards him, which pushed into both nostrils as a drill on a robotic arm proceeded to tear into the roof of his mouth. In the blink of an eye he was witnessing another of these appendages with a small saw attached, usually used for autopsies, now slicing into his chest. Blood sprayed everywhere as he felt an agonising scream rip from his lungs and fill the air, drowning out the noise of these sadistic instruments.  
  
Mulder jumped with a start, then recognized a loud beeping which was coming from a monitor that he was hooked up to. At first glance, he could see the ECG reading was going off the charts. His heart was feeling like a winged insect beating itself against his rib cage. The palpitations were so rapid he thought he was going to go into a cardiac arrest! So, he forced himself to take slow deliberate breaths, which helped steady him, automatically causing the green waves on the monitor to do the same, and return the electronic blips to a normal rhythm.  
  
So, he was back in the chair, the hospital chair that is. He breathed a sigh of relief then hoped and prayed he would remain there this time. "Please let these bloody nightmares just stop," he begged. Undoubtedly that's what they must have been, just illusions, right? If that was so, then why had they not ceased? He remembered results from a recent thorough examination which had miraculously revealed he was in fact driving in the fast lane on the road to recovery, with no trace of any neurological disorder or even alien virus remaining in his system. It was his FBI partner taking on the role as his physician and a Doctor Lim who had revealed this news to him, which should have been a great relief? So, why did he still find himself grappling with these extremely vivid hallucinations?  
  
'Okay, concentrate on memories of events that only occurred on Planet Earth', he told himself, sternly. Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to hearken back to the day in his apartment in Hegal Place, after he'd been discharged from the hospital. His partner Dana Scully had cleaned it for him, which she really needn't have done. He'd wandered around aimlessly checking out the rest of his belongings, whilst she had tried in vain to make him feel at ease. Realising he no longer had one of his fish in the aquarium, she had explained how one of his mollies hadn't been as lucky as him. Lucky? That was one wording he could never relate to under the circumstances. Lost in his own jumbled up thoughts, he realised he hadn't even fully registered the poor woman was heavily pregnant! Even when he had acknowledged that, he just couldn't let his heart fully comprehend the revelation. He'd even apologised for sounding so cold when he'd told her how happy she must have felt about the fact she was with child. Something she'd desperately wanted even though her womb had been made barren since her own 'abduction' in the past, so that had been a damn miracle in itself! But he seriously hadn't been able to process anything he was being faced with.  
  
He'd even tried throwing himself back into the work he'd left behind. Pursuing an incident he believed was an X File, and maybe an answer to why he himself had been taken by the aliens? Against the bureau's wishes he had assigned himself on a case involving a shooting outside the White House, some nut-job who thought he was a prophet and the abduction of Scully's new FBI partner she'd been assigned with whilst he'd been missing, a John Doggett. Boy, he really didn't like that guy! They'd ended up at the Federal Statistics Centre in Virginia, where he'd believed the man had set him up, while he was attempting to transmit data, using the password from a disc discovered on a man named Howard Salt who worked for the U.S. Census Bureau. The same guy who had been shot on the White House lawn and who he believed to have been a multiple alien abductee. Even though Doggett had given him the code through Scully, so he could access the data base, which he'd understood would reveal all the names of the people chosen to be replaced by alien facsimiles because they had a certain genetic profile. He still didn't fully trust him and never would. This had been prevented when The Lone Gunmen had tried in vain to upload the emails he had attempted to send to every national newspaper in the country, with the files attached. Then, when a group of armed soldiers had descended, his paranoid friends had luckily solved a way of escape through a loose panel in the ceiling. Of course, no conclusions had been drawn regarding alien involvement. So, once again he had been left wondering why he had been selected as a guinea pig for the Greys.  
  
Echoes of past events continued flooding into Mulder's mind, swirling around in his head like a cyclone. Toto, you're not in Kansas any more! The mental image he was now perceiving was a flying house landing in a mystical land. He could even hear the familiar strains from the MGM musical. 'If happy little blue birds fly. Then why, oh why can't I?' Without any warning a shrill sound snapped him out of his reverie, causing his eyes to dart open. It took a few shaky seconds before he realised it was in fact the ringtone on his phone. He also discovered he was lying on his couch in his apartment.  
  
"Saved by the bell," he said, still dazed? Hang on a minute, hadn't he just been in a hospital? 'Just another dream, like all the rest,' he thought. But this had seemed much more intense...and so...real. Slowly getting to his feet, he walked across the room, heaved a weary sigh and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"  
  
"Mulder, it's me."  
  
Hearing her ever familiar catch phrase was kind of comforting, and allowed a faint smile to appear on his lips. "Scully?" Her name remained suspended in mid-air, as he really didn't know what else to say.  
  
He heard her reply, and it was clear she was worried about him.  
  
"Mulder, I'm coming over. No excuses!"  
  
Then, the phone went dead. For a good while he just stared blankly at the receiver in his hand, before replacing it back into it's cradle. He went into the kitchen to get a glass out of the cupboard. But as he held it under the tap in the sink, he noticed his hand was shaking. Quickly he drank the water then returned to the couch and seated himself. Just how long could he carry on like this? Thoughts of the latest case he'd forced himself to partake in began to take shape. The words 'Fight The Future' echoed in his mind, and in that instant images formed of alien duplicates surrounding him in the darkness, which made him shiver.  
  
Since returning from his abduction, Mulder had never once spoken about that frightening ordeal to anyone. Not even to the woman he'd once admitted was his constant, his touchstone. Well, it was a very personal matter, so he hadn't felt like sharing it. She respectfully had never asked him to, and so he had buried it deep within himself. But lately he seemed to be losing the willpower to stop these nightmares from haunting him. It was becoming more and more impossible to keep them at bay, especially with an eidetic memory. During many a restless night he found himself slipping down into an abyss that he couldn't escape from, where he found himself reliving every single terrifying moment aboard the alien craft. Maybe, he should talk to someone, before these visions completely destroyed whatever sanity he had left? Perhaps it was finally time to reveal the truth to Scully?


	3. MAKING DECISIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

It was just over an hour before Dana Scully showed up at his apartment. During that time he had tried to concentrate on some bizarre TV programme on the Discovery Channel covering the subject of entomophagy. Basically this involved folk deciding that bugs were just another type of nutritional meal! Pretty gross, although to be honest, he'd seen far worse on past X File cases. Least it switched off his mind for a short period, so much so that when he heard the knock at his door it almost made Mulder jump out of his skin!  
  
She breezed in and straight away headed for his kitchen calling out, 'Have you eaten anything?' whilst knowing full well he hadn't. Dana threw together a couple of sandwiches from the remaining contents in the fridge, which wasn't much. Half a block of cheese, a bit of salad (consisting mainly of limp lettuce) and a jar of pickles. She also found a carton of orange juice that had seen better days, so that went straight in the trash. Least he had one beverage remaining, so set about brewing them a couple of coffees. After a quiet 'thank you', from him, they sat on the sofa together and ate in silence.  
  
All the while Scully showed great concern, but did not want to push him to talk if he didn't want to. At the same time she knew it was important, no essential that he eventually do so. She remembered him trying in vain to convince her to speak about her own 'abduction' in the past, which she also had refused to accept. So, she knew from experience how bottling up traumatic events was in the end, not a wise thing to do for one's mental state of mind. She'd finally arranged a meeting with a psychiatrist, though it had been hard to deal with for the first few sessions.  
  
She glanced across at the TV, which was now displaying a man eating cockroaches, causing a brief flashback to a time when similar but robotic insects had infested a small rural town. She turned to look at her partner, and gave him a sympathetic smile. In response, he picked up the remote and pressed mute. Then, taking a deep breath he closed his eyes briefly, before facing the woman he knew was the only person on this planet that he could fully confide in.  
  
"I'm afraid to talk about it, Scully", he murmured, softly.  
  
She could see tears starting to well up, and took hold of his hand. "I understand, Mulder, really I do."  
  
"There's a 'but' in there", he said quietly, gently pulling away from her touch.  
  
She sighed heavily. "Mulder, did you ever stop to think why you carelessly went ahead and broke into that government building?"  
  
Before he could utter any kind of reply in his defence, she added. "Yes, I know you had help from The Gunmen, and for once I'm grateful that you did." She didn't wait for a response. "But, you must have known the shadow government or whoever?"  
  
"What-ever." he interjected, punctuating the word firmly.  
  
"Whatever? Whoever?" she said, impatiently. "You must have known they would send soldiers to the facility? This was more careless and reckless than you normally are, and dangerous. It's almost as if?" she paused, wondering if she should continue.  
  
"Doggett set me up!" he exclaimed, harshly.  
  
"No, he didn't, Mulder," she stated. "And I also think you know that's not what happened?" Noticing a look of surprise in those hazel eyes, she spoke deliberately, but softly. "I just don't think you would have cared if those men gunned you down."  
  
"What?" he replied, shaking his head, refusing to look at her.  
  
"Mulder?" This time when she reached out to hold his hand in hers, at least he didn't try to pull away. "What you must have experienced defies any rational explanation, possibly even goes beyond comprehension? I know, because I have undergone these tests."  
  
"By a group of 'men'", he cut in sharply, emphasising the word.  
  
She sighed again. "Oh Mulder, it doesn't matter who by. What matters is that you have been through a terrible ordeal. You are emotionally and physically drained, and have reached a point where you are putting yourself in danger at the drop of a hat! She wasn't going to hold back now, and continued harshly. "You just don't care!" Realising he wasn't even trying to deny what she'd said, she continued, her voice rising. "But I care, Mulder! I care!" The concern she was feeling for him was now turning into annoyance. "You need to talk about this, to someone. Otherwise?"  
  
"Otherwise?" he echoed back at her.  
  
She squeezed his hand. "Otherwise?" a brief pause. "This is going to fester, and will eventually rip you apart," she warned him.  
  
"You mean I'll probably have some sort of psychotic break?" His words had come out so matter-of-fact, that he even surprised himself. He squeezed his eyes shut as a memory slowly began to manifest in his shattered mind. "I've already been torn apart," he lamented, opening eyes which were now filled with tears.  
  
Scully frowned. "What do you mean by that?" Then, she remembered the dreams she'd had of her partner suffering terrible tests aboard an alien ship which caused her to shudder inside. Also, the moment she'd seen Theresa Hoese in the hospital lying there, unmoving in the bed, with those horrible disfiguring wounds all over her body. Not to mention witnessing those same injuries on Mulder, when she'd believed he was dead. Just the thought of him being tortured like that? It made her sick to her stomach even contemplating it. But, the important thing here was that he had to tell her what really happened. Before it was too late. The last thing she wanted was him to end up in a psyche ward again. "Mulder?"  
  
He heard the heartfelt plea, as she spoke his name, and felt her hand tremble slightly. Then, he suddenly realised how selfish he was being. Here was a woman who would go to the ends of the Earth for him, and had, but now he was refusing to let her in. Yet, all she wanted was to help relieve the suffering he was going through. And yes, keeping such painful secrets buried deep in his mind would most likely lead to his return to crazy town, or worse. Let's face it, he wouldn't have given a shit if those soldiers had shot him in that Federal Statistics Centre in Virginia. Without even realising it at the time, he had almost thrown his life away because he was at the stage where he no longer gave a flying fuck about himself any more. No, it just wasn't fair of him to do this to her. Mulder took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Perhaps it was time to exorcise his demons after all?  
  
"Please!" Scully began, only more forceful. "Don't let this destroy you. You are so much stronger than this."  
  
He snorted, giving a faint chuckle. "I don't feel very strong right now, Scully". She started to protest, but he carried on. "In the past all I did was try to persuade those abductees to reveal their own experiences, never once considering how they must have felt. "  
  
She gave him a puzzled look. "But Mulder?" she started to say  
  
"Let me finish," he told her.  
  
She could hear determination in his voice now, and knowing how stubborn he could be, just nodded in resignation.  
  
"No, I mean you are right Scully", he admitted.  
  
She looked a little shocked, as she'd been half-expecting him to bite her head off. Also, he didn't sound very convinced with what he'd just said. "I-I am?"  
  
"Yes. But?" He began, firmly.  
  
'Oh here it comes', Scully thought to herself, ready for the onslaught she was about to receive.  
  
He bit his lip and exhaled slowly. "But, you know I can't talk to any fucking counsellor about what happened to me."  
  
"So, then who?" she asked, gently, pleased he hadn't aimed his anger in her direction.  
  
"So?" Mulder sniffed. "I'll tell you, and only you." He looked straight into her eyes. "But first you must promise me, that you will never, ever repeat what I am about say, to anyone."  
  
Noticing a look of sheer defiance mixed with anguish on his face, she replied, "Okay, I promise."  
  
Cupping her hand under his chin, she added, "You know you can trust me, Mulder."  
  
"I-It's not a very pleasant story," he stammered, surrendering himself to the inevitable fact that he was now going to have to dredge up those nightmarish dreams once more.  
  
A tear fell down his cheek, and she gently wiped it away with her thumb. "I know that", Scully replied, softly. "But I'm here...and I'm listening."


	4. REVEALING THE NIGHTMARE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

Mulder sniffed, then disengaging from her gentle caress reached for his now lukewarm cup of coffee, which he downed in one large gulp.  
  
Scully waited patiently then asked what was on her mind, even though she pretty much knew what his answer would be. "You remember everything that happened don't you?"  
  
His eyes widened with a slight bemusement. "You forget Scully. I'm cursed with a damn photographic memory. So, yes, I can recollect the whole incident in great graphic detail. Only?" he paused, then gave a heavy sigh. "I've been trying very, very hard not to. And talking about it is not going to help me accomplish that. But, I guess I do have to." He corrected himself, letting out a faint chuckle. "Need to tell you...if only to salvage what remnants of sanity I have left."  
  
"Please, go ahead," Scully responded with a wan smile. Deep within herself she was feeling the same trepidation and fear. She really didn't want to hear how someone she cared for wholeheartedly underwent such barbaric torture. But she knew she had to be strong for him, and therefore would force herself to pay attention to what he had to say.  
  
"O-k-a-y," Mulder replied, voice trembling. Tears were welling up again, so he swallowed them back and took a deep breath. "I remember..." he hesitated. Then, the words came out fragmented as he proceeded to explain. " The ship...bright...so intense."  
  
The damn began to crack, allowing memories that had been suppressed within his subconscious, to once more seep through into awareness. He wasn't going to try to stop them no matter how distressing the outcome might turn out.  
  
"I-I remember...stepping in-into that light," he stammered. "A-And there were others standing there. People we'd met, in Oregon."  
  
Scully interrupted him with a question. "Was Theresa Hoese one of them?" she asked quietly, once again already aware of what his answer would be.  
  
He nodded slowly, "Yes, she was. She placed a hand on my shoulder and was...smiling at me?" He gave his partner a puzzled look. "Almost like? Like she was reassuring me."  
  
Scully frowned. "Why would she do that?"  
  
Mulder wasn't listening and continued with what he was trying to say. "Billy Miles was there as well, and he did the same thing. Like they were...were trying to comfort me."  
  
Yes, he'd suddenly felt this sensation that everything was going to be fine. He'd found what he'd been searching for, and now all the answers he'd ever asked during his quest for the truth were going to finally be revealed to him. But it was fleeting, because then he'd felt an ominous presence, as if someone had just walked over his grave.  
  
"What?" Scully asked, noticing the change in his expression.  
  
"He was there," he replied, his voice reflecting the uneasiness he was feeling.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Him... The alien bounty hunter," he added with trepidation. "He walked up to me and...?" Mulder shivered inside, knowing he didn't want to remember this moment. The way it had scrutinized him, like a scientist studies an insect under a microscope. "The look he gave me...made me go cold!"  
  
"I remember him," Scully said, solemnly. Her mind reverted to an industrial site just off the I-95, Bond Mill Road in Maryland. Where a well-built and extremely strong individual had attacked and then attempted to choke the life out of her.  
  
"If I hadn't told him where you were going? You, and that other man?" She thought for a moment, trying to recollect the name. "Jeremiah Smith," she stated. He had been the alien-clone who had gone against the Project? Well, that's how her partner had described that particular individual at any rate "He would have killed me."  
  
Mulder only heard the final part of her sentence, as his mind was else-where. "One of them would have," he said absent-mindedly. Yes, he had seen a number of these large, square-built facsimiles on the...the craft. 'No! Don't let your mind go there, not again', he thought desperately. Too late! Trying not to remember the ordeal, he discovered he was in fact now doing the exact opposite. "I-I don't know how I got on the ship?" he stammered. "It... The place was dark...cold. I-I was lying on a slab." He couldn't stop the terrifying mental images taking shape. "Ch-chair... Metal chair. It was at an odd angle," he continued. Taking a shaking breath, his eyes slid shut then he exhaled very slowly. "I think I was...I was pinned to it."  
  
"Pinned to it? How?" Scully asked uneasily. Then remembered the scars she'd witnessed on his body after he'd been returned. "After examining you I realised that due to your wounds, you'd been held down with something that penetrated your limbs..."  
  
"Like a fucking bug!" he interrupted, harshly, eyes darting open in fear.  
  
She carried on, feeling nauseous as she spoke. "Something was driven through both your wrists and ankles..."  
  
"Like a fucking crucifixion!" he exclaimed, eyes darkening. "And they were metal bolts. They pinned me down with metal fucking bolts!" A few tears began to course down both cheeks as he recollected the agonising pain he had felt.  
  
All Scully wanted to do right there and then was take him in her arms and offer him some comfort, so attempted to move towards him. But he shook his head, miserably.  
  
"I have to carry on," he stated firmly.  
  
"Okay," she replied. Understanding that if he'd accepted the gesture, he would have not been able to continue.  
  
And it had been her who had told him he needed to open up about this traumatic experience hadn't it?  
  
Mulder tried to shut out the physical torment he'd undergone, and concentrated on less insufferable sensations. "They'd removed my clothing and..." he hesitated. "I could feel the metal on my back. It was hard, cold, like...like?" He suddenly felt chilled to the core. "Made me think of a morgue." Oh, we're back to death...and...the torture. "Stop!" he yelled. But the floodgates opened allowing even more disturbing visions to come crashing through. His hand automatically reached up to touch his cheek, and he flinched. "Pain! My face was throbbing...and I couldn't move my damn head!"  
  
Scully stiffened. "You had wounds on both sides of your cheeks. It looked like they had been pierced by...?"  
  
Mulder cut her off short. "Hooks!" he cried. "My face was torn apart by fish hooks!" Before she could react he carried on, eyes widening in awe. "We have such sights to show you!" He realised he'd taken on a rather sadistic tone, while he mimicked Pinhead's line from the eighties' horror movie. Wow! Who'd have thought aliens would have the time to sit and watch classic horror features, eh?  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"You never saw Hellraiser?" he asked her. "Clive Barker?" Noticing her puzzled expression he continued, a frozen smile matching the revulsion he was feeling. "Guess Stephen King was more your cup of tea?"  
  
"Actually yes. Yes, I did see it. But it was a long time ago," Scully replied, a little unnerved that he'd reverted to describing a piece of fiction, under the circumstances. "Mulder, how can you start talking about movies?"  
  
Mulder snorted, his eyes now full of torment. "Don't you remember that's what they did in the film? The demons physically tore the condemned man's body apart, piece by piece." He swallowed hard, before continuing. "Then they devoured his soul and dragged him down into the very depths of the Underworld!"


	5. ILLUMINATING FACTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

Dana Scully was growing restless, and also a little irritated. She wanted to understand his nightmares, but with logical explanations, not fantasies created in the mind of a talented horror writer. Then, what about those frightening images she experienced while he was missing? Why was she now denying she'd seen him suffer such similar trauma in her own imagination? The answer was, it had been a dream where her subconscious had simply been playing a cruel trick. However, the physical torture he'd undergone had clearly been evident when she'd found him lying on the ground, wrapped in a blanket. Fellow FBI agents trying to pull her away from the horrifying discovery. Yes, those wounds had all been shockingly real!  
  
"Mulder, I remember during your examination..." She faltered, picturing him lifeless, lying on an operating table in the hospital. Scully shuddered. "There was a deep gash that had been sliced from your sternum to your stomach."  
  
Noticing her blue eyes were now bright with unshod tears, he let out a long-drawn out breath. "Ohhh, that was the saw," he replied, darkly.  
  
"They cut you open?" she asked, alarmed. Though, it was obvious that some sort of medical instrument had been used to perform such a task. Not to mention she'd witnessed this in her dreams. She chided herself for not thinking rationally. Just stick with the facts, Dana!  
  
"Yeah." He hesitated and swallowed hard, before continuing. "While I was still...um, conscious."  
  
"What?" Scully was not prepared for this eye-opener from him.  
  
"I don't think they knew what Novocaine was?" he quipped, trying to lighten the sombre mood. It was either that or sink into complete despair. He did not wish to choose the latter.  
  
Scully had still been trying to come to terms with the fact this man had actually undergone such treatment, which was usually only performed on a cadaver. Now he was telling her the incision had been carried out whilst he was fully attentive and able to recognise what was happening. She felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. "Oh Jesus!"  
  
Mulder was still reminiscing on the incident, whilst at the same trying to distance himself from knowing it had been him experiencing this sickening surgical procedure. "I...heard...it," he began, words forming in staccato beats. "The noise...of the machine. Metal...rods? No, a metal arm came over me."  
  
'Oh god!' Scully thought, as the cruel hard facts now became glaringly evident. 'I saw this happening to him! They were not dreams! It actually happened!' She braced herself because she knew what was coming next. Indeed, as he explained the horrific moments involving the soft palate of his mouth being drilled into, causing him to be almost lobotomised. As well as being practically eviscerated by that medieval bone saw, she felt her insides curdling. She could no longer deny that everything he had described was identical to what she had witnessed in her own imagination. Unable to hold back, she made a second attempt to offer him some comfort. This time he didn't object as she gently encircled him in her arms.  
  
"I really could have done with some painkillers," he joked half heartedly. Whilst at the same time trying to keep himself from losing it completely.  
  
Scully felt his body shudder against her, and gradually pulled him in as close as her distended belly would allow. "Oh Mulder, it's okay. It's all over now."  
  
Allowing himself to be in her protective embrace for a few moments, he sadly realised her words held no conviction. Because one way or another he knew that was far from the truth. But there was no point dwelling on 'that' right now. No, he just had to concentrate on summoning up the strength to tell her the rest of his experience.  
  
"We haven't even gotten to the 'piece de resistance' yet," he claimed gently, withdrawing from her tender touch.  
  
"You would think slicing and dicing me would be enough?" he said bitterly. "But, no! That bastard metal arm returned, this time with two syringes." He stopped short, recalling this most frightening moment of all. An incident he'd repressed so deeply, he'd actually forgotten about till this moment. "Least I think they were syringes?" He briefly closed his eyes, shaking his head as the final leg of the ordeal shaped itself into conscious thought. "The pain was already unbearable, but nothing compared to what followed next."  
  
Scully winced. Then, her medical training kicked into gear. "Mulder, the body can only undergo so much physical endurance then it automatically shuts down. Surely, you had to have passed out at some point," she stated, more than asking the question.  
  
"Well no, actually I didn't," he replied, feeling intense waves of disgust wash over him.  
  
"Meaning what exactly?" she queried.  
  
"Let me finish telling you about the final instrument of torture and I'll explain," he replied, dryly. "Where was I? Oh...yes...the...needles." His words came out in ragged gasps. Mulder knew he was probably going to hyperventilate if he didn't stop this behaviour.  
  
"Needles?" Scully repeated. She could see from his expression that he really did not want to talk about this.  
  
Mulder sucked in deeply then exhaled unsteadily before forcing himself to continue. "Two syringes with very...very sharp needles where at the end of it." Blinking away a few tears, he noticed Scully's face had gone rather pale, while she waited for him to finish explaining this gruesome scenario. "Of the...the contraption."  
  
"They injected you?" she asked.  
  
Her mind reverted to when she had insisted on performing the inspection of his body, against all sound judgement. It had been a painful decision to make. And the prospect that she might even have had to perform an autopsy on him had made her sick to her stomach. But, she had also known that if she hadn't been the first to examine him, then the findings would have been overlooked. Probably deliberately, by certain key figures in the government who did not want the truth revealed. "But I never found any puncture wounds suggesting an injection of any kind," she stated.  
  
"You wouldn't have," he replied, sniffing back a sob.  
  
"W...What do you mean by that?" she asked, puzzled.  
  
"You wouldn't have detected the results of the damage it caused because...?" A brief hesitation, followed by another sniff. "You would have had no reason to examine that particular part of my body."  
  
Now she became alarmed by his words. "What?" she asked, not really sure if she wanted to hear his answer.  
  
Mulder bit his lip, as a tear began to fall down his cheek. "My...my eyes," he replied, miserably.  
  
Before Scully could even take in what he'd just said, he continued explaining. Trying hard not to register the words that were now pouring out of his mouth. "Another metallic gizmo appeared, and clamped to my face like a metal vice. Forced my eyes open. I couldn't...couldn't close them." Another movie came to mind, and he blurted out a name. "Like fucking Malcolm McDowell! Only I wasn't being forced to watch depravity on a screen."  
  
"Like who?" Scully interrupted him, a bewildered look on her face.  
  
He snorted. "Wow! You've never seen 'A Clockwork Orange'?"  
  
"No, I haven't."  
  
"Well, the apparatus was similar," he stressed, harshly. "Only unlike the film this was used, so they could send those things right into my..." He paused, feeling like he was going to convulse at any moment. "They plunged those things right into my fucking eyes!" he yelled, slamming his fist down onto the couch.  
  
"Oh my God!" Scully gasped.  
  
He shook his head fiercely. "I can't...I can't even describe that kind of pain," he stammered. "In my mind I was crying out. Please, God! Don't let them make me blind! But of course I couldn't yell at them to make it stop. Those damn hooks were still embedded in my fucking face!" Tears were now coursing down his cheeks, and he discovered he couldn't stop them. "But, 'He' never heard my cries for help. And those extra terrestrial bastards let me endure it all. Every...single...moment...of agonising Hell. I remained conscious throughout the whole thing!" he exclaimed, angrily.  
  
"They put you through an unbelievable amount of trauma, and didn't once allow you to pass out?" Scully asked in complete and utter shock.  
  
"You got it," he replied. Feeling that any moment he was going to heave his guts up, he swallowed back bile which made him cough a little. "Yes," he said, when he'd finally steadied himself. "I went beyond the endurance of pain. And let me tell you, it's not the nicest of trips to go through," he admitted, wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand.  
  
Scully touched his elbow which caused him to stop this frantic gesture. "Mulder, I'm so...sorry." Reaching up, she began to wipe the emotional evidence from his face. Feeling the wetness of his tears on her fingertips as she did so. "I just wish I could have stopped them from hurting you. I wish I'd been there for you."  
  
He felt a small bout of comfort from her touch, and lowering his head, rested his chin against her palm. He remained there for a few seconds, eyes closed. Then brushed his lips against her hand. "You're here now," he stated. Looking up, he gave a faint smile. "That's all that matters." Leaning forward, he delivered the lightest kiss on her mouth. "Do you want me to continue?"  
  
She felt his lips tremble and returned the gesture. "Only if you want to?" she replied.  
  
"Might as well. I'm on a role now," he snickered. But the sadness still remained evident in his expression. "Guess that was it then!" He noticed the frown on her face and added, "I mean, I felt nothing after that. There was just darkness...blackness...nothing. Peace, maybe?"  
  
"Peace?" she asked, confused.  
  
"Yeah. I think that's where they must have finally succeeded in..." his words trailed off.  
  
"In what?"  
  
He gave her a solemn look. "In killing me," he stated, abruptly.


	6. BURYING THE TRUTH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

Dana Scully was picturing herself pouring over medical charts in her hand, going over his diagnosis again and again. These present symptoms had made no correlation to previous so-called extra terrestrial findings he'd displayed in the past. And she had been extremely reluctant to pronounce him DOA, even though every fibre in her scientific mind had proven this fact. She was dammed if she was going to listen to her rational way of thinking. She just couldn't accept the fact Mulder was gone. His voice brought her back to the present.  
  
"The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital bed," he said, quietly. Only as the words came out of his mouth, he couldn't really register what he was saying. What followed after his ordeal on the ship just made absolutely no sense at all. Okay, he had been used to paranormal theories defying rational explanation and it had become a way of life just to accept what was unacceptable. But after having been immersed in a World, where he played the key figure who was being put through such excruciating torture. By all rights he should have been dead as there was no way any human being could have survived that!  
  
"You were there, leaning over me," Mulder said, the confusion registering in his voice. "I think I asked if anyone had missed me?" God, he'd actually cracked a joke! But then it had always been his way of dealing with perplexing situations. Guess you couldn't get much more thrown off balance than one minute being in a hellish nightmare, and the next finding you'd awoken under soft cotton sheets with someone sat beside you holding your hand, tenderly. No, not just someone.  
  
Glancing over at his red-headed partner he smiled, then took hold of her hand. "I remember you telling me that I was safe now. That I was going to live and everything was going to be okay. I remember that very clearly."  
  
Only he had in fact been discovered dead in those woods, that much Scully knew. She remembered the tears streaming down her face when she'd been forced to painfully accept this horrifying truth. She'd attended his funeral, not knowing how she could even contemplate carrying on without him? Then there had been a miraculous turn of events, when the unbelievable came into play once more.  
  
Three months after they had buried Mulder's body, a fishing boat had discovered Billy Miles's bloated corpse. Which could well have been in the ocean for a similar amount of time, due to the extensive tissue necrosis. So, he must also have been returned? But unlike Mulder, this body had displayed vital signs, weak, but present. It was a pure fluke that the Doctor had even noticed, as the boy's heart beat and rate of metabolism had in fact slowed to imperceptibility. For all intents and purposes he had been dead as rigor mortis had even set in. After her boss, Assistant Director Skinner had gone ahead and had Mulder's body exhumed, even though Doggett had expressed it was pure insanity. That's when they had made an amazing discovery. Even though the tissue, not to mention his neural and vascular systems had all been in a state of decomposition. Just like Billy, they discovered Mulder was somehow alive! Then, there had been even more developments that defied belief when the boy had literally seemed to shed his skin and change into a new person. Scully remembered witnessing two heart beats on the ECG monitor, which she thought had been a glitch at the time. However, as much as she'd tried to deny it, the only acceptable explanation for both men's conditions had been due to a virus, of extra terrestrial origin. Then, Skinner had been compromised, although he'd never given her a full explanation as to why this had occurred? Only that it had been something to do with a vaccine he was trying to obtain. The end result was his making a rash decision to switch off Mulder's life support machine. However, to Scully's amazement she'd discovered they had in fact been incubating the virus in his system, hastening its progress. Which would have eventually transformed the man she cared for, into some form of extra terrestrial being. An unstoppable super soldier, just like Billy had become? Skinner's actions had in fact prevented this, and even though Mulder's temperature had dropped rapidly, it hadn't affected his vital signs. Then after stabilising him and administering a course of antivirals, she virtually was able to save his life! Scully hadn't even allowed herself to wonder why she was able to achieve this improbable outcome? Come to think of it, even now she still had no rational explanation.  
  
Taking him into her arms once more, so as not to crush her swollen tummy. She stroked his hair tenderly. "Mulder, I can't believe how I managed to heal you? But there is a God because he heard my prayers, and made it happen."  
  
"In more ways than one," he replied, gently pulling back and staring at her pregnant form.  
  
"Yeah, I guess," she said, unsure whether she should talk about that subject any further. Considering the man had just opened up to her about some extremely painful secrets. At this present moment in time did he really need to be burdened with the fact he may or may not be the father of her unborn child? After witnessing those preternatural forces at work first-hand, who was to say it wasn't divine intervention that had given her this gift?  
  
As if to answer her question Mulder got up from the couch, and disappeared into his kitchen without another word. A few moments later he returned, a glass in one hand and aspirin in the other which he swallowed down with a few gulps of water. "Headache." he stated feebly, before seating himself back down beside her.  
  
"Understandable," Scully answered. Realising her current situation was clearly not at the forefront of his mind.  
  
"Scully?" he began, once again lost in his own thoughts. The reason he'd left the room was because he'd suddenly become aware that something else unimaginable had occurred before he'd woken in the hospital. It was this that had caused the migraine to develop. "There's more. Only...?" he hesitated.  
  
"Only...what?" she asked, worriedly. She was sure he'd explained about everything that had happened to him on that ship?  
  
"Only, it's hard to comprehend. I mean science doesn't explain it."  
  
"What?" she repeated. Did he honestly think she'd need to hear rational words right now? "Mulder, if there's anything else you need to tell me, then please know it's okay to do so," she reassured him.  
  
"Look! When they found me, I was declared dead, right?" He didn't wait for a reply. "In human terms..." he paused, deciding to approach this from another angle. "I mean, by all rational scientific justifications I was dead. Kaput. Finito. The End." he stated, begrudgingly.  
  
"Yes?" Scully replied, not really understanding why he was going back over his demise again. After all, this had been miraculously resolved hadn't it?  
  
"But I-I still sensed," he stated, knowing that sounded completely deluded, even for him.  
  
"What exactly do you mean by sensed?" she asked, uneasily.  
  
"It was like they'd put me into some sort of coma." He continued, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "The aliens. They had put me into some, I dunno? Death Coma?" 'Yep, no such thing', he thought. But how else was he supposed to explain it? "Because...because I was still aware." He saw Scully's eyes widen in disbelief, so continued. "I was back in those woods. I was aware of you, leaning over me. You were crying, then screaming and breaking down in Doggett's arms." He cringed, then stopped himself short, and snorted derisively to himself. How on earth could he have feelings of jealousy under the present circumstances? He continued, concentrating on how he had, what was the word exactly? Felt? "I just...just wanted to hold you, but I couldn't," he stammered, helplessly.  
  
"How? How could you have been aware of that?" Scully asked, incredulously.  
  
In answer Mulder just shrugged his shoulders. "Fuck knows? But I knew I was lying on that operating table, when you were examining me. It was like...like I could see you, in my mind's eye. You were upset!" He was getting agitated now. "All I wanted to do was get up off that bloody thing and put my arms around you!"  
  
"But, you...you were dead," she stated. "You were proven clinically dead on arrival."  
  
"Guess humanity hasn't fully grasped the concept of alien technology yet," he replied, attempting to answer his own questions. "I mean what other reason could it have been?"  
  
"Oh god! Please don't tell me you were conscious of everything since you were returned?" she asked. Taken aback by the fact he was trying to justify what he was saying as a legitimate scientific term.  
  
Memories flooded back like a tidal wave, drowning all sound reasoning in its wake. "Oh yes! I knew when they took me back to Washington...and when they put me in that coffin!" He took a sharp intake of breath and put a hand over his mouth, mainly to stop himself from being physically sick. Then, he exhaled allowing himself to continue. "I remember being lowered into that fucking pine box, and...and even being buried underground!" he exclaimed, bitterly.  
  
"No!" she breathed. After everything this poor man had been through, now he was telling her he had been forced to acknowledge his own death experience?  
  
"I-I sensed you at the grave side with Skinner," he said, mournfully. "All I wanted to do was break out of my final fucking resting place, so I could comfort you." He really did not wish to ruminate on the absolute fear he must have lived through during those moments, but was failing miserably. 'Interesting choice of words, Mulder', he thought to himself. Taking into consideration that he had been bereft of life. "But I couldn't move! It was like my mind was trapped in a decaying body...making me unable to fucking move!" he stated, furiously.  
  
"Oh Jesus, Mulder!" Just the thought him of being buried alive was making her stomach churn. Had she been knowledgeable of that fact, she would have gladly taken a pickaxe and smashed open the damn casket lid herself. But how could she possibly have known at the time? Instead, she had let Skinner hold her while she mourned the loss of the one man she knew deep inside she loved with all her heart. But just like her pregnancy, she decided this was not something to be discussed right now.  
  
"Typical Edgar Allan Poe story eh?" he announced. "The Fall Of The House Of Usher." He noticed her confused expression. "One of his short novels, where the sister Madeline fell ill, and they ended up laying her to rest while she was still alive. Made into another great horror classic...from the 60s I believe? Jeez! These aliens sure love their compilation of horror flicks." He found himself suddenly imagining the Greys all sat in a darkened movie theatre, sharing buckets of popcorn. Strange idea indeed, but at least it allowed a half-smile to appear on his lips. That is until a mental picture formed in his mind of himself. Lying there in the cold dark earth. Trapped! Lost!  
  
'Oh please, not another movie', Scully thought. Just why did he keep relating his experiences to Hollywood motion pictures? Maybe a way of escape?  
  
"Darkness," he said, causing her to snap out of her own thoughts. "That was what was left. Just an empty void. It seemed to stretch into infinity. "I thought if this was heaven, forget it. Maybe Hell? Sure had felt like Hell!" He knew he was rambling now, but couldn't stop himself. "Don't remember anything after that, so I thought that maybe I'd actually ceased to be...then...?"  
  
"Then?"  
  
"Then, I woke up in the hospital," he said, almost relieved he'd finally reached the end of this very harrowing saga.  
  
"Anybody miss me?" She repeated the words she'd heard him utter. "That's what you asked after playing that silly prank on me."  
  
He gave her an affectionate smile. Then remembered he'd actually pretended to lose his memory and show no recognition towards the woman at his bed-side. Only for a few seconds, but still it had been a pretty dumb thing to do. Taking her hand in his, tears still glistening in his eyes, he whispered, "I sure missed you, Scully."  
  
"I missed you too."  
  
She recollected the confusion she'd seen on his face when she'd queried him about whether he'd had any idea of what he'd been through? Now she knew the answer to that question, and it was far worse than she could have imagined or even dreamed about. "God, Mulder. You've carried the burden of knowing what they did to you, all this time? How on earth have you managed to keep it hidden for so long?"  
  
"Guess I'm a good actor," he joked.  
  
Scully raised an eyebrow at him. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that," she quipped, lightly. She could see he only wished to lighten the mood. So, would go along with it even though only moments ago she was privy to some of his most abhorrent nightmares.  
  
"Well, now you know everything." he told her, flatly, automatically changing the subject.  
  
On hearing the sudden change in his tone. She was suddenly filled with compassion for the man who had reached out to her, and her alone. Pulling him into a bear hug, or as close as she could get to one under the circumstances, she tried to console him. Realising now, that pushing him to describe these traumatic events, must have been akin to one hell of a therapy session. "You're safe, Mulder. They can't hurt you any more," she soothed gently. "You don't even have the virus in your system... and your wounds are almost healed."  
  
He didn't want to dwell on his inexplicable recovery right now, so just accepted her tender embrace. Having had to come to terms with his horrific encounter on the space craft, not to mention what transpired after they had returned him. He resigned himself to deep emotions that had been trying to surface. Now they were uncontrollable. Flowing out of him like a raging river bursting its banks. The next thing he knew, he was sobbing wholeheartedly against Scully's shoulder.  
  
"Shhh, I'm here Mulder", she whispered, softly into his ear. " It's okay. It really is all over now."  
  
As she held his shaking body against her, she uttered a silent prayer. Thanking the heavenly father for granting the miracle. Which to her, was the reason this man was back in her life. She also believed that over time things would eventually return to normal. That is if you can consider working on The X Files as just another typical day at the office? Together, they would fall back into their old familiar routine as two FBI agents working alongside each other again. Two colleagues, sparring partners, close friends...maybe soul mates? Stroking Mulder's hair gently, Scully lowered her hand so that it was resting on her protruding stomach. Of course, let's not forget the little matter that she was going to be giving birth in a few months. She felt him relax a little in her arms, and smiled to herself. Yes, she would tell him eventually...when the time was right. She would tell him the truth.


	7. LIVING THE DREAM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

The sun was just starting to rise and already you could tell it was going to be another hot and humid day in the state of Virginia. Well, it was late July when the climate could easily reach sub-tropical temperatures. Tucked away in the middle of a field of parched grass lands. An old renovated farm house had all of it's upstairs attic windows open trying to dispel the heat. This rural place at Farrs Corner, 227700 Wallis Road had been bought by the ex-FBI agent, when he'd been forced into hiding. Fox Mulder and his partner Dana Scully had gone on the run after his narrow escape from a military prison. Certain government officials (some of whom were alien replacements) had set a trap at the Mount Weather military facility in Bluemont. After being involved in a fight which resulted in a fatality, he was accused of murdering an old army buddy of John Doggett's. Noel Rohr, who later turned out to be yet another super soldier. Their aim was to be rid of the paranormal investigator once and for all by declaring a guilty verdict, with the outcome being a death sentence. However, once he escaped and managed to disappear from under their radar things quietened down, and they ceased looking for him. They probably decided that at least with him losing his position in the bureau, he would be less of a threat, since he no longer had access to the resources he required to uncover any more of their plans. The X Files was closed down and indeed completely forgotten about for a fair number of years. Gathering dust in the basement of the federal building in Washington.

The run-down house was purchased so Mulder could literally be free from a life he'd spent chasing the paranormal, whilst being duped at every turn. He didn't have the energy or indeed the money to get it completely restored. So, when Scully visited him on occasions she started calling it the Unremarkable house, which later became their pet name for it. One time she made a house call, this had resulted in him being thrown back into a case unofficially, because a female FBI agent had gone missing! Unbelievable! These assholes had ruined his career then had the absolute nerve to ask him for his help! This of course threw him into a precarious situation where he became immersed in a Frankenstein nightmare, and almost lost his life again. After that horrendous experience he seriously felt he was done with the whole paranormal crap for good. Even Scully kept on telling him it was consuming him and that she herself couldn't take it any more.

The problem was it had been his life for so long, he was at a loss with how he was going to spend the rest of it? This unfortunately had resulted in him slipping into a deep depression. Even though his partner stood by him for a while, in the end he told her the wisest decision would be to just get away from him, as he couldn't stand what it was doing to her. Why on earth should she put up with this, while he fell apart at the seams? At first, she'd refused to leave and had stood by him as long as she could. But having a high pressured job as a neurological Doctor, as well as trying to take care of her long-suffering partner. It all just proved too much for her to handle, so, she walked away. It was her change of heart which eventually forced him to pull himself together and seek the help he needed. Finally taking Scully's advice, he went on an intense therapy session which basically changed his life. He discovered he could cope and was doing quite well, even without her presence. But deep in his heart he missed her so much, and even though they stayed in touch with emails and phone calls, it just wasn't enough.

Then, along came something he couldn't have predicted in a million years. The big turnaround when a web-TV show host contacted Skinner at the FBI. The man had been convinced he had uncovered information about a government conspiracy, which resulted in blowing Mulder's previous beliefs about the existence of E.T's right out of the water. So, determined to prove his own theories right, he went back to the FBI investigating paranormal cases once more, and all previous grievances were forgotten about on their part. Not that the feeling was mutual, but his deep-seated obsession to uncover the truth had always been a major part of him. In the end, it was that which made his mind up, to return to the investigating he left behind. To be honest, being back in the driving seat also gave him one hell of a buzz. It had felt good to stretch old muscles and pick up where he left off. The biggest rush of all though was being reassigned with his red-headed partner. Even though the years had flown by, their respect and devotion for each other had remained constant throughout. In fact, you could have said it had almost been like old times, disagreeing and agreeing with each other like nothing had changed. That is until he discovered former members of the original Syndicate were now working in the private sector, with insidious plans of their own. This cartel, along with other underhanded ideas, were intending to upload everyone's mind into a cloud-based digital afterlife, to escape from an end-of-the-World scenario.

The biggest kick in the teeth was learning that it was his own father and arch nemesis, Carl Gerard Bush, aka the smoking man, who had set this plan in motion since the Roswell crash in 1947 **.** To create a pathogen using alien technology, that would essentially wipe out most of humanity, barring a select group with alien DNA in their genetic make up. He had tried everything in his power to stop it, and succeeded in finally disposing of the man once and for all. After firing a round of bullets into his chest, then pushing him off a dock outside an abandoned sugar factory in Norfolk, committing his body to a watery grave. Whilst trying to prevent mass genocide from taking place on Earth, and relying on what seemed to be hallucinations his partner kept having about an alternative future, which also revealed his own demise was on the cards. Mulder was somehow reunited with his long-lost son, William. Who through a form of telekinesis, had been sharing visions of how it would all end, with his birth mother Dana Scully. Only tragically, it turned out the boy had been nothing but an experiment by his sick twisted father. Who many years ago, had artificially inseminated Scully's womb with a combination of human sperm and alien DNA. The black lunged son-of-a-bitch had chosen her to be the vessel that would carry his creation to term. That revelation had absolutely devastated Mulder as deep in his heart he believed he'd been the boy's biological father. After William decided he did not want to be the one to aid his real parent in destroying humanity and would rather die. He chose to shape shift into Fox's image and urged the smoking man to kill him. After witnessing the execution, a clear gunshot to the head. Mulder returned the favour with no remorse whatsoever, riddling the evil bastard with bullets from his own pistol. But after an amazing twist of fate, the impossible happened yet again, when only minutes later Scully told him she was pregnant with his child. The shock had been overwhelming at first, yet it turned out to be a small miracle. One they discovered in time was the answer to their prayers, as well as a life-changing experience.

The sound of birdsong outside the attic bedroom window awoke Fox Mulder from his deep slumber. Opening his eyes, he blinked a couple of times unaware of his present surroundings at first. Boy, that had been one hell of a dream! Almost an out-of-body experience and to be honest, it had thrown him off kilter slightly. Finding his bearings he realised he was lying in the large double bed in his home. As vision adjusted even more he could tell from the shadows on the ceiling, and the rays of light starting to filter through the curtains, that it was dawn. He heard a soft sigh beside him causing him to turn around. Only to discover the one woman who had lived though the nightmares with him for many years. Back in 1993 she had been assigned to debunk his work on The X Files. But over time had come around to listen, and even believe in some of his crazy theories, eventually becoming his closest ally. His one in five billion. Gazing at Scully's naked sleeping form half covered by a sheet, he smiled as happier memories took shape in his mind.

They had miraculously been blessed with a little bundle of joy of their own. Yes, it had defied all rational belief and never been explained in any shape or form. But what the Hell? He now had a beautiful healthy baby daughter, and that was something he would always be grateful for. They had been through so much pain and heartache, it was almost like a higher power had decided enough was enough. That they could finally have the life that had been so out-of-reach and which to be fair, they deserved. During her nine months of pregnancy, Scully had moved back into his home, a decision they both came to in the end. They formed a bond that was stronger than ever, and realised the love they had for each other had never gone away. It had only been put on hold while they'd tackled being back in the FBI. In fact, in the middle of one of their strange cases involving doppelgängers they had ended up sleeping with each other again. For comfort more than anything, but Mulder had to admit at the time something had felt really right during those hours of intense bliss. Who could have possibly known it would result in them finally being able to have a family of their own? So, he'd ended up quitting the bureau for good and leaving behind his paranormal pursuits. He seriously never thought he would have the guts to walk away from something he'd been engrossed in for many years. But the main reason he'd opened The X Files division in the first place was because of his ongoing obsession to find his lost sister, who he believed had been abducted by aliens. Only that had been resolved, and now sadly she was dead. There had been no real reason for resuming his work in the FBI, other than that secret desire to pursue unexplained cases. But since the birth of his baby girl, he'd decided his priorities had to change. Scully also chose to resign. Apart from being pregnant, she had a serious desire to get back to her working life in medicine at the 'Our Lady's Of Sorrow' hospital. Truth is he knew she lost interest in 'chasing monsters in the dark' way before he did. So, finally made the move and left his work as an agent behind forever. He came to the conclusion he no longer wanted to be consumed by the darkness either. Besides, he had much more important things to concentrate on now, his family.

Not long after the decision to quit, he went ahead and booked a table at a very fine restaurant in Washington. Not his usual preference, which tended to be fast food diners. After getting down on one knee he proposed to Ms. Dana Katherine Scully right there and then. To be absolutely honest, he had been pretty damn nervous. But so relieved when she had said, 'yes', after being pleasantly shocked by his romantic gesture. After everything that had happened in the past, especially his complete breakdown which resulted in her leaving him, not knowing then if she'd ever come back? Mulder had been hoping that since their brief return to the FBI, and dealing with yet more terrifying situations together, that she would have had a change of heart? She had been living with him for a year before he took the plunge and asked her to be his wife. In that time they had become a couple once again, sharing each other's problems, and spending nights making love. Not because each needed comfort after a frightening ordeal. No, this was pure, genuine and let's not forget the passionate and intense part. He had known then that this was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life...? No scratch that...the rest of eternity with.

She stirred from her slumber, and immediately felt his gaze upon her. "Hey, you," Scully said sweetly, nuzzling up to him.

"Hi sleepyhead," Mulder replied, lightly brushing his lips against her own.

Returning the gesture, she felt his arms enfolding her, so deepened the kiss. For a good while they remained there, lost in complete contentment. Scully had to admit she couldn't remember a time when being with him had ever felt this good. Sure, they'd had moments of bliss, but nothing it seemed that would develop into a more permanent relationship. Right now, it felt like a little piece of heaven. A beautiful romantic paradise just for the two of them. "How did we end up here?" she asked, dreamily, gazing into his hazel eyes.

"I dunno. Maybe all the crazy paths we went down, finally brought us to the right destination," he replied, with a smile.

"You mean we took that road less travelled by?", she asked, with a grin.

"Something like that." He kissed her again. "We took a chance, and this time, it paid off my love."

"It sure did," she agreed, then gave him a mischievous wink. "What say we cement our bond some more Mr. Mulder?"

"Never thought you'd ask Mrs Mulder," he replied, with a smirk.

His fingers began to stroke her long auburn hair, then softly trail down her back, which made her shudder with delight. Cupping her hands around his face, she moved forward to kiss him passionately.

Mulder groaned softly into her mouth, tongue intertwining with hers as he pulled her into a strong embrace. Feeling a stirring deep within his loins, he knew he was ready to take this woman to the highest sexual peak of ecstasy she would ever experience in her goddamn life!

Well, that was the idea at any rate, until the baby monitor on the side table decided to have its own plans. A distressed crying sound emitted from the little device, causing all ideas of impassioned, burning and red-hot desire to cease.

"Oh nuts!" Scully exclaimed. Reluctantly untangling herself from his embrace, she swiftly got to her feet and threw on a robe. "Guess it's my turn, huh?"

"Yup," he replied, a little disgruntled. "'Fraid your the one with the breasts' hon. Beautiful as they are, I guess Catherine needs them more than me right now."

Scully giggled, then leaned down and kissed him, lightly. "They are all yours after she's been fed, promise."

"I'll hold you to that," he teased.

Watching her leave the room to attended to their baby girl, he was surprised to feel a sudden sense of loss. But that was an absurd emotion to experience, under the circumstances. She was only going to be next door. But for some reason, he really didn't want to let her out of his sight, not even for a second. Only why exactly? What did he think was going to happen? That everything in his life would suddenly disappear as if it never existed?

"You're being a bloody idiot Mulder," he told himself, harshly. I mean let's face it, he had everything he could have ever wished for. A life he once thought he could never be a part of under any circumstances. A beautiful wife. Not only that, but someone who was his closest companion, his perfect other. Now with a precious child of their own, his sweet little Catherine. After she'd been born they had tied the knot, and had a beautiful July wedding, It had been so enchanting and...and William had been his best man? He stopped short, a puzzling look on his face. No, that can't be right as he was dead. He had watched his father shoot him at point-blank range, after the boy had morphed into his own image on that dock in Norfolk. Mulder started to feel uneasy, and began shaking his head. That couldn't have actually happened though, could it? He'd remembered the boy handing him the gold band which he placed on Scully's finger, as a minister took them through their vows. So why on earth was he having conflicting memories, of two different events. Only one could be the correct one, right?

As he looked around the room at his surroundings he chided himself for being ridiculous. The other incident, the one where he'd seen his son murdered, shot in the head by the smoking man, dear Dad. That had just been a nightmare, surely? There was only one way to find out. Leaning over the bed, he opened the desk drawer by his side and retrieved an address book. Searching for the page labelled 'W', he traced his finger down it, and found the name, William Mulder. The surname having been crossed out with one large black pencil line. Without pondering on that, he grabbed his cell phone and dialled the number he'd found.

"Hello?" the voice sounded sleepy.

"Hi," he paused. "William?"

The reply he got was not what he'd been expecting. "Fox? Hey there. How's life with the missus?"

"Um, great," he replied, a little thrown off balance. "How are you, William?"

"Oh can't complain," he replied, then chuckled. "Since when did you get so formal? It's Will."

"Sorry, Will." Mulder said, still perplexed.

A brief silence followed. Mulder's first thought was that he'd cut him off, because the man he had been talking to had lost his marbles. He certainly wasn't expecting to hear the next words that came out of the boy's mouth.

"So, I got the job! I'm now a fully-fledged FBI agent, like you used to be," he announced, delightedly.

"Sorry, you're a what!" He couldn't hide the astonishment in his own voice. "You joined the bureau?"

The voice on the other end of the phone sounded rather surprised. "Sure I did. Following in my old man's footsteps, like I said I would."

A warm feeling washed over him, as he heard the words. Old man? So, this was his son? Feeling a little tongue-tied, he managed to stumble out, "I'm proud of you."

"Aw, thanks Dad."

Mulder felt like he was going to cry, so chose to respond with humour instead. "Just tell me you're not working on The X Files," he teased.

"The what?" was the reply.

"Never mind," Mulder said. "It's not important." He realised what he'd just uttered and frowned. Never thought he'd see the day when he'd dismiss his previous life's work, so lightly.

"Hey! Kristen's arrived. I gotta go."

"Kristen?" Mulder asked, confused all over again.

"My girlfriend?" William answered, sounding baffled. "We were at your wedding Dad."

"Yes...Yes of course you were," Mulder replied. Trying to concentrate on the moment which was supposed to have been the happiest time of his life, he pictured a scene at the Hilton hotel in Norfolk. 'Oh no, we're back to that place again', he thought. Only this time it wasn't a dock beside any factory, but a ballroom, full of light, laughter, and music. He was dancing with Scully in his arms, while a band played Italian composer Carmen Lombardo's beautifully haunting song 'Return To Me'. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a white carnation in the top button hole of his jacket. She was in a low cut silver sequinned gown, which sparkled like diamonds. It took his breath away just imagining her in such a garment. Folk were moving to the melodic strains of violins combined with the soft mellow tones from a grand piano. Two of whom were his son William, also in the same coloured tux. And his girlfriend who was in a knee-length pale blue satin dress.

"Hey, Dad?" he heard a voice say, which brought him back to the present. "I'll talk soon, okay."

"Sure, son. Take Care."

Mulder put down the phone, then lay back against the bed head. Closing his eyes, he tried to assess what had just taken place. He'd just had a conversation with his son William, and everything had sounded so completely normal. Yet, in another life the boy had been murdered in cold blood. If that wasn't enough, to add insult to injury, he wasn't even his father. Then, it struck him. There had been another time, or life, when someone else he knew had died. Mulder immediately opened his eyes and sat upright in the bed, as the memories shaped themselves.

The man had been an informant of his when he'd been in the bureau. He'd been involved in something called...Purity Control? The black cancer. His life had also ended with a gun shot wound, only to the chest. However, this same individual had also mysteriously appeared in his house, and explained to him how a well-placed bullet had changed the course of his life. Deep Throat. Who he later came to know as, Ronald Pakula when he saw his name etched on a gravestone. It was a different house Mulder had been living in then, quite idyllic really with a luscious green lawn. His sister had also been alive, a grown young woman with kids of her own living across the street from him. His father came to mind. That bastard had also resided in the same area, and even invited him and the woman he was living with for dinner. Only it hadn't been Scully, but someone else from his past who he'd had relations with. He pictured her wearing a long black lacy nightgown, in a dim lit bedroom, as he took her into his arms. After she unlocked the cuffs, he had been wearing...Diana Fowley. They'd made love one night, but it had all seemed rather surreal. In the span of a heartbeat he'd witnessed her pregnant then kids running about the place, finally gazing down at an older version of herself dead in a coffin. Time had flown by at an abnormal rate, and he himself had aged and was nearing the end of his life. He'd been lying down in a bed, whilst his son-of-a bitch father spoke to him. Only he hadn't gotten any older, and was telling him to let go. That they were the last, and others were waiting for him. The word 'apocalypse' and 'end of the World' came into his mind, and Mulder shuddered. He'd been forced to leave that scenario and had woken to find Scully crying, whilst releasing him from metal bonds. He'd been strapped to a table in the shape of a cross, where men had been operating on him? Mulder recoiled in horror when he remembered the reason why. They had drilled into his head to remove genetic material, which had then been transferred into his father's sick twisted brain. It had been alien DNA.

Had that ideal World he'd found himself in with Diana been a complete lie? A construct created in his own mind replacing the fact he was dying? What if Scully hadn't come to his rescue? Would he have remained in domestic bliss with a previous lover, if he had been killed in his own lifetime? Living in that perfect parallel existence before time sped up? Or, would he simply have ceased to exist?

Suddenly Mulder grew pale, and began to feel very uneasy. The life he was living now with Scully had been a dream come true. Proposing in the restaurant and her saying yes. The fairy-tale wedding they'd had, not to mention the fact his son William was alive and well. Come to think of it, he'd left a life of chasing the paranormal behind, choosing instead to settle down with a wife and child. To what? Spend their days in perfect harmony? And then they were going to 'live happily ever after', like Walt Disney characters in some romantic story-book ending? It was all just a little too good to be true, especially for him of all people. The man who had spent his days endlessly pursuing supernatural forces, constantly being deceived at every turn. Who had lost loved ones and suffered so much pain and heartache. Why would his life now become this perfect idealistic magical existence, filled with complete tranquillity?

A troubling question entered his mind. Mulder was surprised it had since this was something he hadn't considered since his abduction in Bellfleur, Oregon, over 20-something years ago! When those blasted creatures from outer space had decided to return him, in a very sorry state indeed. So why in all that was holy was it bothering him now? Maybe because after all these years, he still hadn't been given a full explanation. How come after his miraculous resurrection, did he then heal so amazingly fast?

"Oh for fuck's sake, Mulder!" he scolded himself. "Just stop this, or you are going to go insane...again!" He stressed the last word strongly.

Just then the door opened, and he gazed at the beauty standing there before him. "Scully," he gasped. All crazy thoughts now locked away in the back of his mind, for the time being.

"Sorry hon. It took a while to get her back to sleep," she confessed. Walking over to the bed, she removed her dressing gown which she discarded on the floor. "Now, where were we?" she purred softly, snuggling up to him under the sheets.

From that moment on he was lost, in her eyes, her scent, her taste. Everything proved right there and then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was as real as the morning sun now shining through his bedroom window. As Mulder affectionately caressed her gently and kissed her mouth with such devotion. All thoughts of being trapped in the Twilight Zone evaporated back into the mists of time.


	8. PARALLEL FATES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

"Not everything dies, Mr. Mulder."

The words echoed around in his head, as fragments of memories began to form. He saw a petite blonde woman handing him a photo. The letters SRSG scrawled in blood on the floor of his old apartment. Special Representative to the Secretary General of the United Nations. It was the assistant who had said those words to him, while tears blurred his vision. Then, a picture had come into focus revealing his sister. One of those carbon copies of Jeremiah Smith had taken him to see her? No! They had been clones, of his little sister...working on a ginseng farm? Wait. It had been far more insidious than that. Bees. Corn Crops. Running from black helicopters. The interior of a massive structure. Humming. Whirring of cogs, as human bodies were transported in pods along conveyor belts. Bodies infected with a virus, allowing an extra-terrestrial being to gestate inside them. Finding Scully trapped inside, like...like a bug trapped in amber. A kind of gelatin substance enveloping her completely. Smashing open the encasement, he had to free her. Holding her almost lifeless body against him. She was naked, freezing, covered in that same greenish-yellow liquid. He had felt cold, life-less lips whilst he tried to perform CPR, in a desperate attempt to bring her back.

Only now her mouth was warm and inviting. She was gyrating against him, sweat glistening on her soft skin, as they rocked gently back and forth. He was inside her now. Rhythmic thrusts, as her body arched and head fell back, pushing her breasts against his torso. He grasped her slender form, his hand lowering to rest gently on the small of her back. One finger circling the tattoo etched onto her skin. Ouroboros. The serpent eating its own tail. The symbol of infinity. When he'd asked her why she'd chosen that particular design? Her reply had been, because it meant everlasting. Eternity.

'Nothing is every really lost, or can be lost.'

Oh, wait a moment? That was a line from the sexually charged book of poetry 'Leaves Of Grass'? Whitman had always been his personal favourite.

'Not everything dies.'

That profound statement again, but not from Scully's mouth? No, these had been spoken by an ally, a female informant. Marita Covarrubias. His half brother Jeffrey Spender had discovered her in that decontamination chamber, after the Syndicate had used her as a test subject. Wandering around the facility in a hospital gown, like a zombie. Hair the consistency of straw, a blueish tinge to her skin which made it look spectrally pale and violet albino-type eyes completely vacant. Listless. Humans had been taken over. Controlled by an entity. Black oil.

"Like a new man."

That turn of phrase had come from someone he despised. Alex Krycek. FBI agent turned rogue. The man who had killed his father? No, not his father. CGB Spender had been the man...who had created him. Created?

'You can't bury the truth!'

He'd yelled that out at some point, when he'd witnessed blistered bodies suffering from fourth-degree burns, in an abandoned silo. They'd been run off the road. Alex and himself. Only that ancient alien life-form had been inside his former FBI partner. Men came to kill them. There was a bright light. Those same men were incinerated from the inside out by a type of radiation, not of this Earth.

Intense heat. That was what he was experiencing now. But this was coming from the woman moaning against him. He heard Scully cry in sheer ecstasy as an intense orgasm ripped through his whole being. Sweat poured from their glistening bodies, both panting loudly. Only Scully's felt so incredibly hot to the touch. No wait. She was glowing! A brilliant iridescent light was emanating from her torso, surrounding them both. White-hot. Jeez! He was on fire!

She moaned softly, tossing and turning in the sheets as the dream manifested itself in her subconscious. She'd had night terrors of a similar nature, but this one terrified her more than the others. He was still lying on the strange operating table, limbs pinned down. Face contorted out of shape as his cheeks were being stretched by clamps. Only this time he remained outstretched on the contraption, eyes closed. Completely inanimate, motionless. That's when she noticed the purple hue of his naked flesh and could tell from this ugly tableau presented before her, that the man was no longer breathing. There was no mistaking that fact now. Mulder was dead! Scully awoke with a start, and jolted upright gasping for air. Realising she was in her own bed at home in Georgetown, she let out a sigh of relief, although remained rather shaken from the frightening vision she'd observed. At least it had only been a dream.

xxxxxxxxxx

Time. How is it defined exactly? The progression of events from the past into the future. Meaning it can only move in one direction, forward not backward. It is believed memory formation is the basis for human perception of time. Well, that's the scientific definition at any rate. Only there is also a theory this might all be an illusion. What has been, what is present and what will be, is actually happening in unison. According to the quantum world – time as we know it simply does not exist.

Hidden behind an invisible force field of energy, making it unseen to the naked eye. A colossal smooth pitch-black metallic disc shaped object remains stationary. Keeping its macabre secrets locked away deep inside it's core. Concealed from the outside World, this extra-terrestrial spacecraft exists, outside of time and space. Beyond any human comprehension, in what is known as the fourth dimension. Where memories of your future self become imaginations of your present self and vice versa.

Consumed within the industrial interior of strange jagged and curved asymmetrical shapes made from rock and steel, the outline of a figure in silhouette lays in what can only be described as a medical bay. He is shrouded in complete darkness, lost within memories of his own making. Overhead lights suddenly turn on, revealing the man is still being held down in the 'chair' with metal restraints piercing flesh and bone, the face still wrenched out of shape distorting his once handsome appearance. His body now a sickly pale purplish-blue colour, with skin, crumbling, disintegrating as he remains there deathly-still, almost as if he has been turned to stone. The large figure of the alien bounty hunter, stares down at him with eager anticipation.

His hazel eyes shot open, and pupils immediately constricted due to a brilliant light prohibiting his ability to focus on his surroundings. He became conscious of the palm of a hand being pressed firmly against his forehead and, at first could feel a spark of warmth, which quickly became intense heat flowing into his veins. Bringing him back, from where? What followed was a prickling sensation which quickly turned into an uncomfortable ache in his limbs, and then grew into a severe stabbing pain.

A deep resounding voice spoke, sounding full of triumph. "Welcome back, Mr Mulder!"

A buzzing sound like angry bees could be heard. Then, he felt the pressure in his face ease as one by one the hooks unclipped themselves, and retracted back into the machine. The severe levels of tension he had endured lessened somewhat. But releasing him from their vice-like grip only heightened the throbbing pain now beating against his skull.

"Whaa...?" he managed to utter, voice sounding feeble. Since he hadn't used his vocal cords for what seemed like, years? Okay slight exaggeration, but that's how long he felt he'd been there. Where? Where was he? His mind tried to process, which was not easy as apart from the excruciating headache, muscles and tendons were screaming causing him to draw out short ragged gasps. Then, it hit him, like a thunderbolt. Oh, fucking Christ! He was back inside the alien spacecraft!

"N-N-No!" he half stammered, half shrieked. Mulder's throat felt like sandpaper and his yell of anguish came out thick and raspy, which developed into violent coughing making it hard to breathe.

"Try to relax," a voice spoke beside him.

The hand was removed, and Mulder discovered he could now turn his head. Trying desperately to compose himself as best he could, so as not to end up being asphyxiated. He glanced over at his tormentor who was smiling down upon him, displaying a look of pure satisfaction.

Groggily, he tried raising himself up, only to realise this was an impossible feat. A brief glance, and a wave of nausea swept over him when he observed why he couldn't move. Both wrists and ankles were still impaled with metal bolts, holding him firmly in place. Swallowing hard, which was extremely difficult to do due to abrasions on his throat, he struggled to form words on his cracked lips. "F-Fuck you. Y-You bastard!" His voice choked him once more, but he didn't care. Hot tears were stinging his eyes now, and he blinked fiercely. "Fuck you to Hell!" he croaked, shooting daggers at this otherworldly creature.

"Why, Mr Mulder. I just brought you back from a non-existent stasis. You really are being most ungrateful," it said in a belittling manner.

"Ungrateful?" he said, completely shocked. He couldn't believe this thing was scolding him as if he was a petulant child. Just exactly what the fuck has he got to be grateful about, and what the hell did it mean by 'non-existent stasis'? He tried to give the strange phrase some kind of definition. A thing of the past. Something that is no more. Stopped? The words now chilled him to his very core. Had he been...dead?

Mulder hadn't registered anything but sheer agony since he had 'awoken'? If, that was the word to use? Forcing himself to examine his body in more detail, he noticed his skin was discoloured giving it a purple-greenish tint. What would Scully have called it? Marbling? Not only that but it was also flaking, falling off right before his very eyes. Oh, shit! He looked like something right out of George A. Romero's 'The Night Of The Living Dead!' His first instinct was to throw up right there and then. But his mind was on other things, or rather a certain person. The woman he loved, Dana Scully. A tear fell down his cheek, as he recalled the life he thought he had been living. Then words poured out, practically incoherent.

"No! M-married. S-Scully. Baby. Left...it...paranormal. Shit! God!" This just couldn't be happening to him.

"Why yes, he did." The Bounty Hunter smiled again. Before the stricken man could say anything, he continued. "Mr Mulder, you have been part of an experiment, which I must say has been our greatest achievement."

Just what the fuck was he babbling on about now? Experiment? And what did he mean by 'he'? Had someone else had that life, not him? "W-who did?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, not really wanting to hear the answer. To be completely honest the only person that came to mind was the agent who had replaced him, while he had been missing in action? Okay, had they even been his actual memories?

Shit! He really couldn't tell what the hell was real any more. "D-Doggett?" he asked, sadly. "Was it Doggett?"

"No," the alien replied. "It wasn't Special Agent John Doggett."

Well, at least that was some sort of comfort. "Then, who?" His words came out on a sob. Who in hell was he kidding? He was far from feeling bloody comfortable. The pain was eating into him, and he just wanted this whole fucking nightmare to end. Now!

"I will explain." The words came out clinical and detached. "We chose Special Agent Fox Mulder as he has been an important part of the Project since birth. Our cloning programme has been used before..."

He cut in sharply, on hearing his name. "What the fuck do you mean you chose Fox Mulder? I am Mulder!"

"Be quiet, and let me continue," the creature commanded.

He had to obey, otherwise they'd probably put him through even more extreme torture. Or kill him again? Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea? As a matter of fact, he'd been contemplating suicide ever since he'd found himself back in this nightmare. He'd happily choose that way out if it meant he could escape from this terrifying realm of absurdity.

"The procedure has once again been proven a success, and you are now being prepared for your return to his life."

"HIS life?" Mulder, asked despairingly. "Who's fucking life?"

The alien wasn't listening. "You will be left in a place called Montana. They will find you, and then the process can begin."

"State!" he said, harshly. "It's a fucking state in America." This was beyond all understanding. Had his memories really only been flights of fancy? What the hell? Desperately he tried to concentrate on the life he'd left behind. Then realised there was one thing he could grasp onto with all his might. She'd rescued him. Scully had saved him from something? The process. Yes! He would have shed his skin and become an alien replicant. What? Like something out of Blade Runner?

He glowered at the Bounty Hunter standing before him. "That has already happened you bastard!" he blurted out. "I was found in those woods. And...and Scully stopped me from turning into one of your fucking foot soldiers!" He took a breath, and instantly felt a sharp twinge in his chest. Oh, yeah, where they had sliced him open. "S...So, this is all a damn lie, you motherfucker!" he howled. Immediately making muscles constrict in his lungs which caused hacking coughs to rack his whole body, and the debilitating pain escalated.

The creature's reaction was simply put, pure enjoyment. "Mr Mulder, you really don't understand do you?" It was almost laughing.

Mulder's look was incredulous. "Then enlighten me you sick twisted bastard," he wheezed angrily. Forcing himself to calm down, so he could get his breathing back under control. He was pretty damn sure this alien ship masquerading as a medieval torture chamber, wasn't going to have anything like an expectorant or even any morphine to help relieve his suffering.

"Time. Such a fascinating concept that you humans believe in."

"What?" he replied, thrown by this sudden change in subject. This thing was now going to lecture him on the meaning of time? On the meaning of existence? "I don't need a fucking science lesson," he growled in a raspy breath.

The alien waved his arm around, indicating the man should look at his surroundings. "This vessel we are inhabiting? It exists outside your notion of space-time. Mr Mulder, let me try putting it, in such a way, that you might grasp an understanding of what I am saying. What has happened, is happening, and will happen."

Okay, that was supposed to clear things up? Condescending shit-head! Mulder prayed to be anywhere but this point in time, right now. "That makes no fucking sense whatsoever," he said, exasperated. His whole body was beginning to feel like one raw nerve ending, making it hard to concentrate on anything. Then, without any warning a scientific term popped into his fogged-up brain. "Quantum physics," he said, surprising himself. "It's another theory. Only Scully knows more about it than..." his words trailed off, as pleasant memories formed. Lying in bed, making love to her. Saying 'I do', at the altar. Everything had been so wonderful. Why did he have to exist at this particular moment? It just wasn't fair! He groaned, eyes glazing over as he tried pleading to this monster's better nature (if it even had one?) "P...Please," he began, allowing the tears to roll down his cheeks. "Let me go back to her." He pictured Scully's radiant smile, as his sobs choked him. "Just please, God! Let me go back!"

"But Mr Mulder, you are back."

The calm words rang hollow in his ears, and he suddenly became furious. "No!" he screamed. "I am here! In your fucking spaceship! You tortured me to death and now are mentally tormenting the fuck out of me with this crap!" He couldn't hold back any longer. "If you won't let me leave this Hell? Then, for fuck's sake please just kill me! But don't you dare even think about bringing me back next time you bastard!" His outburst resulted in a fresh fit of coughing which took even longer to subside, leaving him completely sapped of strength.

The alien smirked at the damaged soul that lay before it. "Everything exists as one moment. You are the perfect clone that we have created, who will soon be returning to his life."

Clone? Now, he was a fucking clone? He really couldn't take any more of this shit. However, he was utterly exhausted and had no more energy left to fight. So, tried in vain to shut out his sadists droning voice as it continued explaining whatever it had to say.

"You are also married to your touchstone, your confident, your one true love. You have a daughter and are indeed living a life full of happiness."

"Lucky me." His words came out frail, as tears continued to flow.

"Don't you see?" the alien continued. "You are the same, right down to the last atomic particle. You both exist in and out of this concept you call time." It almost sounded sympathetic. "Those were not memories you witnessed, Mr Mulder. They happened, or will happen and are taking place right now. Like I said we are absent from time. We exist and yet we do not."

'Great, now I'm Schrödinger's fucking cat? Or maybe Dolly the fucking sheep?' he thought, miserably. "Please...enough now," he pleaded helplessly. He noticed the Bounty Hunter's unfazed expression and added, "Look, whoever the Hell I am? Just fucking kill me." Mulder closed his eyes, knowing these creatures would show no mercy by fulfilling his wish. So, he would never find peace. He'd been brutalised, suffered cruel abuse at the hands of these sadistic intergalactic torturers. They had literally broken him, worn him down. He was completely drained and now there was nothing left inside.

"Hush, Mr Mulder."

He felt the alien stroke his hair, and shuddered in disgust.

"Your moment has almost arrived."

He really couldn't process any more of this insanity any longer. So, pictured himself in Scully's arms being rocked gently as she caressed him softly. His befuddled brain suggesting that if he concentrated hard enough he would leave this nightmare behind, and return to his home and the fairy-tale life he'd left behind. "Where's your ruby slippers when you need them?" he half-joked, pathetically.

He could hear the Bounty Hunter's words, only they now seemed lost in some distant fog.

"The moment when we return you to your reality."

Then, everything faded away.


	9. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder has been having lucid memories about his nightmare aboard the alien spacecraft, and finally decides to share his thoughts with the one person who he hopes will understand. But are they really as straightforward as they seem?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAN ALSO FIND THE AUDIO BOOK OF THIS STORY AT  
> https://soundcloud.com/audiofanficpod/sets/xf-apokalypsis-by-penny-evans-ma

"Hey!"

He could hear a soft voice calling to him, but couldn't pinpoint the source exactly. Where was he now? Over the friggin' rainbow?

"Mulder? Are you okay?"

His eyes opened, and he found himself staring into rather concerned crystal-blue ones.

"S-Scully?" he stammered. "What the...? Where am I?"

She looked puzzled. "At home, you twit."

Home Sweet Home. No place like home.

"Who's damn home?" he asked, annoyed.

"Wow! That must have been one hell of a dream, babe," she said sweetly, stroking his hair.

"D-Dream?" he muttered, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I mean I was only out the room for what? Five minutes? It didn't take long to get her to settle this time. Only when I came back, you'd fallen asleep. I mean you were completely comatose."

"Her?" he asked, even more confused. Why was nothing making sense?

"Catherine. Our daughter?" she replied, now a little troubled. "Mulder, what's with you?"

" I don't know," he replied, in all total honestly.

Scully kissed him lightly. "Honey, where ever you were? You're back now, safe with me." Noticing his confused frown, she added softly, "I mean whatever that dream was about? That's all it was, just a figment of your imagination."

"I guess," he replied. But couldn't accept the words that had just come out of his mouth. The spaceship? The torture? His agony and torment? That had all been painfully real. He grimaced at the unintended pun. Reaching out to touch her face with his fingertips, he felt the warmth of her soft skin. "You're real?" he asked, not completely convinced.

Noticing the uncertainty in his eyes, she took hold of his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. "Yup! I'm flesh and blood." she teased, gently. "This is a 'real' bed, in a 'real' house. The real-world." She kissed him again. "And I'm now going downstairs to make us some 'real' breakfast, before Catherine needs my attention again."

As he watched her leave, she seemed so full of life, and for one moment he allowed himself a slight smile. Without any warning the nightmare visions on the space craft returned. Only as he began to piece together what the Bounty Hunter had told him. Strangely enough, everything now seemed to be falling into place. He was even starting to understand the reason why everything had happened.

"The cloning process...success. He'd soon be returned to his life. The vessel exists...outside time and space. Exists as one moment."

xxxxxxxxxx

"What has happened, is happening, and will happen", the alien Bounty Hunter repeated. As it continued to watch the wretched corpse of the man in his constraints, desperate to be free. Begging to DIE! He felt icy tendrils of fear grip his very soul, for he now knew that he would never see his soul mate, his touchstone, his one true love, ever again. His fate had been sealed in an out of time limbo for all of eternity.

"Scully!" Mulder screamed in sheer terror, as the darkness engulfed him.

xxxxxxxxxx

"You want your eggs sunny side-up?" a female voice wafted up the stairs.

On attempting to grasp the situation he was in, Mulder's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open with an astonished little, "Oh.

We are the same...right down to the last atomic particle. That's what the Bounty Hunter had told him. Which meant identical in body...and mind.

"So, one version of me lives in perfect contentment with Scully and my child, while the other remains traumatised on the alien spacecraft. Left to face a living Hell? Dammed for the rest of eternity?" he asked himself, alarmed. But, which one is which? It took him all of five seconds to realise if he tried to solve this conundrum, he would go around the bend. And come to think of it, did it honestly matter?

"Honey! Did you hear me?"

Scully's voice sounded frustrated. He knew if she didn't get an answer, she'd be pissed. Then, he'd probably get no eggs! Not even any breakfast at all. She'd go back to work at the hospital, and he'd be left to stick some pop tarts in the toaster. Or maybe resort to just having a cup of coffee? Cooking had never been his thing, but he did know how to switch on a kettle.

"Sunny-side up," he called back, with a grin. "Oh, and make sure the bacon is crispy."

Her retort, was a light-hearted and playful "Yes, dearest."

Then, settling back against the bed head he began to feel a sense of gratitude. Whichever version he happened to be? The main thing was this Fox Mulder was living the life he could never have dreamed of having. With his beautiful red-headed wife Dana Scully, and their little daughter, Catherine.

He'd escaped from the darkness.

Mulder's lips formed into a slight smile, then began to widen. "Guess 'I' got the happy ending," he said, contentedly. Finally, he understood the part he had been given to play. It was all clear now, and he welcomed this revelation with open arms.

xxxxxxxxxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So which Mulder remains in the nightmare on the spaceship, and which one lives 'happily ever after? I'll let you decide dear reader! Just remember the rules of the Quantum World. Everything is a probability until it is observed and brought into our reality. Therefore, the conclusion is whatever YOU perceive as reality ;)  
>   
> In some, the parallel universes are separated from us by enormous stretches of space or time; in others, they're hovering millimetres away; in others still, the very notion of their location proves parochial, devoid of meaning. A similar range of possibility is manifest in the laws governing the parallel universes. In some, the laws are the same as in ours; in others, they appear different but have shared a heritage; in others still, the laws are of a form and structure unlike anything we've ever encountered. It's at once humbling and stirring to imagine just how expansive reality may be.  
> BRIAN GREENE (Physicist)  
>   
> 


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